


I Like It Like That

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Arguing, Creampie, Dom Spencer, Dom Spencer Reid, F/M, Hair-pulling, Jealousy, Light Dom/sub, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Self-Insert, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24735607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: Jealous!Spencer shows himself after a rowdy party. He promises to never do it again, but Reader immediately makes him take it back.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 374
Collections: Dr. Reid/ MGG





	I Like It Like That

It was no surprise to me that (y/n) is flexible. I figured that fact out pretty quickly after she showed up at my door one night after the rest of the team fell asleep.

I learned a lot about her that night. Like how loud she screams my name when she squirms on my fingers, or how tightly she pulls my hair and how hard she digs her manicured fingers into my scalp when my face is buried between her thighs.

I loved these things about her. I just didn’t _love_ the rest of the team learning about that side of her.

So when I heard the overjoyed, playful screaming from all the girls _except_ my girlfriend, I was not excited to come back to the room. Call it intuition or just regular logic, it didn’t matter, because I knew what I would see.

Sure enough, after I found the courage to turn the corner I saw her straddling Garcia as the music blared in the background. I’d heard the song before, it was on the playlist (y/n) usually played when she was getting ready for a night out.

‘ _If you could see it from the front, wait ‘til you see it from the back, back, back, back, back_.’

Except now, instead of dancing a private show for me in the bathroom or bedroom, she was grinding in a familiar pattern over our coworker. I hated myself for feeling both turned on and furious, because even if it wasn’t me under her, I couldn’t deny the way it made me feel.

She’s done the very same thing in my lap on several occasions.

‘ _Wait 'til you see it from the back, back, yeah, back, back, back_.’

There was something hypnotic about the way she could move those damn hips. I couldn’t stop thinking of the way it felt to hold her up by that perfectly sculpted ass while I fucked her into a wall. 

But the fact I was thinking about that heavily suggested that I wasn’t the only one. That thought was confirmed when Alvez appeared next to me, taking a swig of whatever the hell he was drinking.

“Damn, Reid. I didn’t know you could handle a woman like that.”

The words burned my ears, lighting a fire deep in my chest as I clenched tighter to my own glass.

“I don’t know what you mean.” I replied through half-clenched teeth, which led to him laughing as he shook his head.

The only thing worse than his words was the way he was watching her.

She had turned around now, her hands running through her hair as she crouched, showing the exquisite control she could maintain in her stomach muscles despite shaking her hips at a dizzying pace.

“If you don’t know what I mean, you’re either blind or ungrateful.”

Fuck, she _had_ to stop. _He_ had to stop. I know he was drunk, but that was my fucking girlfriend.

Luckily, Rossi had caught on to what was happening from a few feet away, and he put an arm in front of me as I started to approach the women.

“Easy, kid. Let her live a little.”

The nonchalant manner he said it only pissed me off more. He just shrugged, like it was an inevitability that I should let a bunch of other people ogle my girlfriend. She was practically lighting a fucking “open for business” sign over her head.

“It’s humiliating.” I finally ground out, but the older man just chuckled, taking a drink of water as he turned around to leave.

“She’s not hurting anybody. As long as she’s still going home with you, just be glad you’re a very lucky man.”

Well, that certainly made it significantly worse.

He pat my back as he left, and I found myself stewing in the rage building in every atom of my being. Why the fuck did she think that was a good idea?

Was she thinking at all about _me_? I mean, fuck, I get she wanted to have fun, but she wasn’t the only person that was impacted by her stupid ass decisions.

This thing we had was relatively new, and I didn’t want to show her this side of me yet. But there I was, ready to drag her off Garcia and out the door to tell her exactly how I felt about it.

I wanted to slam her against the wall and remind her that I want her enough that she’ll never need to even look at another man again. I needed to calm down, but all I could see was that look of feigned ecstasy on her face as she finally looked at me.

And that bitch fucking _smiled_. She thought it was so funny watching me struggling to remain composed while she played her body like a siren’s lyre. At that point all I knew that was that she better hope that I’ve calmed down by the time I get her alone.

Because I was not feeling nice.

————————————————

My boyfriend was mad at me. It was obvious from the way his jaw stayed clenched, his hand leaving the wheel to run through his hair every couple of minutes.

Oh, and the fact he’d been lecturing me for… about ten minutes.

I almost regretted asking him why he was mad, since he was apparently very keen on explaining. Honestly, if I knew I was going to get yelled at for the dance I would have done a lot more of it just as a big ‘fuck you.’

The spiel continued all the way from the car back to my apartment, where Spencer somewhat surprisingly followed me in. Not even bothering to argue back, I just kept rolling my eyes and scoffing at the appropriate times (which was most of the time).

Most recently, it was him saying, “What were you thinking?”

My eyes having tired from the constant workout, I decided to finally bite back. Flinging the door open for the both of us and continuing down the hallway, I half-shouted into the empty room, “It’s called having fun, Spencer! You should try it sometime!”

I could hear the door shut with a little more force than necessary, and I had to wonder if Spencer did it on purpose. Of all the time I’ve known him, nonetheless dated him, I’d never seen him get even slightly aggressive. I knew it was a little fucked up, but part of me was excited by the idea he was angry enough to do something about it.

I knew there was some darker part of him, but he kept it so locked down. Even from me. 

So when I turned around and saw he was right behind me, I almost lost my breath.

“Did you even hear the men on the team?! The things they were saying about you?”

God, he was so beautiful, even when he was angry. His hands were gesturing in the space between us, anger emanating from his entire figure.

“I don’t care about them!” I yelled back, “And besides, they were _joking_. It’s not like I was dancing on them!”

I tried to walk past him, but I wasn’t able to. His hand fell heavy on my shoulder, pushing me against the wall beside us with only a little force. I wasn’t sure if he saw the dangerous glimmer in my eyes, but if he did, he did _not_ like it.

“Yeah, because I wouldn’t have let that happen.” Bringing his entire body closer, he forced me to look up at him to meet his eyes. And god, did I want to meet those wild eyes.

“Oh, you wouldn’t?” I teased, my hands staying at my sides, no matter how badly I wanted them to run over his chest.

“No. I’m the only one you get to touch like that,” he muttered under his breath, bringing his hand to wind into my hair. “I’m the only one who gets to _see_ you like that.”

With one fluid motion, he yanked my head back by my hair, dangling his face inches away from mine. I felt the heat from his heavy breath as he tried (and failed) to control his breath.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want, Spencer.” I spat, my hands against his chest as I tried to shove him away. He didn’t move.

“You don’t own me! I’m not your fucking property!”

What happened next was so quick I’m not entirely sure how it happened at all. But Spencer’s hand on my hair and my hip spun me around with ease, slamming my front against the wall as I braced the impact with both hands.

A bitter laugh in my ear, he growled, “You want to bet, bitch?”

The words caused goosebumps to raise over the back of my neck, and I shuddered against the wall. But that feeling was nothing compared to the one that immediately followed when I heard him unbuckling his pants, his hand not in my hair roughly hiking my dress up over my hips.

“W-what are you doing?” I stuttered, my eyes rolling as he didn’t even bother answering before shoving his hand in my underwear, beginning to stroke my already damp sex.

“In case you forgot, I’m from Vegas. I don’t lose bets.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but I heard him loud and clear from the few inches away. “Because I don’t make them unless I know I’m going to win.”

I choked on a moan when he began harshly pumping his fingers into my heat, apparently delighted to find that I was already ready for him.

“Someone’s excited. Figures you’d like to be manhandled. Why am I not surprised?”

A desperate moan tore through my throat as his hand began palming at the firm bundle of nerves at my crest, and I swear I almost felt tears in my eyes from the over stimulation.

“If you wanted me to treat you like a slut, you could’ve just asked.”

With that cruel taunt, his fingers were gone, leaving me teetering on my toes as I tried to stay upright. He wasn’t done yet, though, because he immediately went to pull my underwear down just enough to have the access he sought.

“Spread your fucking legs.”

I didn’t give a single argument or ounce of hesitation, forcing my legs apart despite the resistance from the tiny cotton fabric still around my thighs.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but some part of me was still shocked when I felt him bury himself to the hilt inside of me with one thrust.

“ _Fuck_!” I cried as my body pressed even harder against the wall when he slammed into me again.

Everything he was doing was intended to elicit a response from me, and I was more than happy to deliver that for him. That being said, it was impossibly difficult to focus with how hard he was currently plowing into my body.

“What’s wrong?” He said with a smile, “Is there not enough of an _audience_ here for you to play along anymore?”

I was too delirious from the way he was commanding my body right now to give him the answers he was looking for. I could hardly stay standing, each thrust taking me further off the ground and forcing me to rely on his body holding me in place.

“Would you rather me hold you down and fuck you in the middle of the bullpen?”

My attempt at words was actually just one long, drawn out careening cry. The brutal, rhythmic pace he was using to fuck me into the wall only seemed to get harder the longer I remained silent.

“I bet you’d love for them to see what a dirty little whore you are for me.”

The image of him fucking me over his desk was not new to me, but it certainly was new to me that he also fantasized about it. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’d been caught absently chewing on my pen in the office picturing that very thing.

“S-Spencer,” I squeaked, which seemed to get his attention.

“What was that?” He asked through a smile, his mouth so close to my ear now that I could feel the moisture in his breath. “Speak up. Tell me who’s fucking name is in your mouth.”

I couldn’t have disobeyed if I _wanted_ to, because no sooner after his words left his mouth he had pulled me down against his cock, causing tremors to wreck my entire body.

“Spencer!” It was more like a guttural moan than his name. He didn’t mind.

“Good girl.” He praised, pressing a hard kiss against my jaw bone before tilting my head to give him access to my neck. When he trailed his lips down the sensitive skin, I sobbed from the way it overwhelmed any senses I had left.

“Maybe I should get you a collar,” he mumbled against me, dragging his teeth along the column between kisses. “So you don’t forget who you belong to.”

“Spencer,” I whined more insistently, my hips bucking wildly against him to try to initiate the movement he’d deprived me of.

“Please,” I begged, “ _please_ , Spencer.”

But that was the last audible thing I could say, because shortly after my plea was answered with a brutal thrust into the wall Spencer’s large hand covered my mouth. The fact I could smell my own arousal on it did more to me than it should have, and I was suddenly unable to think in coherent sentences at all.

“Just shut the fuck up,” he ordered, setting a feverish pace of pounding into me now, clearly satisfied now that he had won his bet.

There was no question about it: this man owned me.

“Take what you’re given and be grateful I fuck you at all, bitch.”

That was apparently all I needed to finally lose myself to the climax I’d been chasing since he first slammed my face against the wall. The noises coming out of me were animalistic, and the way I tensed under his touch drove him to become rougher.

“This cunt is mine,” he spat as he held me down on his cock, “Don’t ever fucking forget that again.”

Just as my body stopped spasming I could feel his dick pulsating as his warm release filled me to the brim, leaking down my legs as he gave a few final thrusts.

We stayed like that for a long, silent moment. The only sounds in the room were those of heated, crazed breath and our hearts beating back and forth at each other through my back.

He leaned against the wall, his forearm next to my head as he finally released my hair, dropping his hand down to my hip.

“ ** _Fuck_**.”

That was about as eloquent as I expected him to be after all of that, and I wasn’t judging him. I couldn’t do much, either at this point. But I had a feeling that he was a little bit nervous now, and that was understandable.

After all, he’d never done _anything_ like that before… Ever. Our sex so far had been relatively tame - maybe a little more than vanilla, but definitely not _slam me against a wall and call me a bitch_ level.

Not that I was complaining.

Once he pulled out of me I realized just how precarious my ability to stand was. Luckily he was there to catch me, holding me up as he dropped his head against the wall.

“You okay?” He asked, still trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah.” I panted, “I’m good.”

Eventually managing to turn to face him, I pulled my already soaked underwear up to prevent any of our cocktail of juices fall onto the floor, at least. He was staring down at me with the most guilt-ridden look I’d ever seen on him.

I pouted a bit at how cute the look was, which seemed to break the dam withholding all of his thoughts.

“I’m so, **so** sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I-I don’t know what happened I just—“

I licked my lips, swallowing as I watched the way his face contorted with shame and he closed his eyes to avoid looking at me.

“Spencer.”

He winced when he heard his name, peeking at me hesitantly with one eye. But what he found wasn’t a terrified or angry woman. No, he saw my enthusiastic grin.

“If I knew you could fuck me like that, I would have danced on Garcia a long time ago.”

A sigh of relief and nervous chuckle blew through his mouth, and he pulled me forward against his chest.

“You’re not mad at me?” He rasped, clearly exhausted from the workout and a half we’d just experienced together. “Even after I called you a bitch?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, my hands finally making their way around him, rubbing small circles against his back.

“The only thing I’m mad about is that I’m just now finding out about this side of you. You should bring him out more often.”

I felt his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed then cleared his throat. With an unsteady tone, he gently asked “Do you… Do you mean that?”

Running my hands up into his hair and directing him to look at me, I leaned back against the wall, looking up at him with that same devilish smile I’d flashed him at the party.

“Yes, **_Sir_**.”


End file.
